#AmericanWriters
We move by means of our mud bumps. We bubble as do the dead but more… The products of excruciating purge… we are squeezed out thin hard and… If we exude a stench it is petrifi…
Little lion face I stopped to pick among the mass of thick succulent blooms, the twice streaked flanges of your silk
I show her how to put her arms aro… but she’s much too small. What’s worse, she doesn’t understa… And although she lies beside me, stick…
My dumpy little mother on the unde… had a mannequin’s grace. From chin… the sheet outlined her, thin and t… uptilted, bloodless, smooth, had a… Her head rested on a block under h…
A smudge for the horizon that, on a clear day, shows the hard edge of hills and buildings on the other coast. Anchored boats all head one way:
The popcorn is greasy, and I forg… A pill that’s a bomb inside the st… The Embassy blows up. Eructations… cauliflowers giganticize into moti… screen is orange, is crackling fle…
In the pond in the park all things are doubled: Long buildings hang and wriggle gently. Chimneys are bent legs bouncing
The binocular owl, fastened to a limb like a lantern all night long, sees where all
A mouth. Can blow or breathe, be a funnel, or Hello. A grass blade or a cut. A question seated. And a proud bird’s neck.
Stop bleeding said the kn… I would if I could said… Stop bleeding you make me… I’m sorry said the cut. Stop or I will sink in f…
Body my house my horse my hound what will I do when you are fallen Where will I sleep
Monday The world is a ball of water. See, it is round-sided. I move across its topside, upon the world, not in it.
Women Or they should be should be pedestals little horses moving those wooden pedestals sweet
Blue, but you are Rose, too, and buttermilk, but with blood dots showing through. A little salty your white nape boy-wide. Glinting hairs
My hands are murder-red. Many a p… drops on the heap in the basket. O… to bursting, they might be hearts,… the blackbird’s wing-fleck. Grippe… he shrieks his ko-ka-ree in the ne…